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Poezja

	Gert Strydom
	PROFIL O autorze Przyjaciele (13) Poezja (1888) Proza (37) Fotografia (5)

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Gert Strydom, 17 marca 2016

There had been a kind of loneliness

There had been a kind of loneliness, a brokenness,
deep in your eyes,
a searching for greater meaning
and deeply moved
I wanted to bring something holy and honest to you,
with inadequacy
I did tattle when you did come right up to me
when with your loveliness I was moved.

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Gert Strydom, 16 marca 2016

When the early the morning does begin (cavatina)

When the early the morning does begin
and you arise
my lady, the first doves do happy sing,
while the dew lies
on your garden’s most pretty flower cups
and in your eyes
with greatest joy golden the sun does shine
and forever I want you to be mine.

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Gert Strydom, 15 marca 2016

Constantly I am astonished

Your beauty astonishes me constantly
when humility
does surround my whole life, shadows do fall,
with nobleness
you do become far more than just my princess,
oblivion
falls over the past when we do laugh together,
when I do yearn for each kiss from you.

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Gert Strydom, 14 marca 2016

When I hold you tight

When I hold you tight
then I feel the depth of your trust
and I am aware of your heartbeat
as if every moment holds something deeper.

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Gert Strydom, 11 marca 2016

Life is a gift

Life is a gift, a chance to exist
and some people have been great
while others will be greater still
and we do shape our life as best we can
act out the roles
of father, mother, brother, sister, daughter and son,
find someone to hold as the dearest of all
but still human we are
when at times we err, we fall
and our dreams are shattered into pieces
but yet constantly we do try,
we do reach to the unknown
with something more
than just a flickering of hope.

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Gert Strydom, 10 marca 2016

Bus trip at night

In the winter outside it’s already dark
where we sit in the bus, ordered to a determined trip
and vague acquaintances from the daily coming en going do rise
while some others do dare loud conversations.

Outside a sickle moon hangs bright when the bus does brake
and your fingers do lock around mine and your eyes glitter like shining suns.
Your smile do entice a smile of my own and the worries disappear
where we are in a dungeon as slaves travelling between work and home

and strings of lights hang high and catch the eye,
as a enchantment to the cold city
but most of the people are grim, some somewhat sad
others are very tired and the bus does wobble on
roars up the hillock like an overeaten monster
that does vomit at the set bus stop.

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Gert Strydom, 10 marca 2016

I have not seen the spark of life

I have not seen the spark of life
and yet I do know that it does exist
as people, animals, trees and plants
are alive all around me

and all the secrets of love I do not know
but wherever I do look its compassion does glow
and God in His glory I have not seen
but still He does His goodwill on me bestow.

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Gert Strydom, 9 marca 2016

Kamikaze

(after Jan Swanepoel)

Behind me the sun shines blindingly bright
and the stormy wind devours along with me.
When I pull the lever to full throttle, my thoughts are clear as crystal
and I am not blinded by glory, patriotism and the will of God.
When I bind myself to the last moment of my life
it flashes past me like a movie in a bioscope,
the reason for my existence comes together in one endeavour:
to baptise the hellish enemy in destruction
and down I dive out of the cobalt-blue
past the crackle of heavy ordnance, past canister-shot
while I keep the aeroplane aimed precisely on the target
but for a last moment like the drawings of a great artist
my life is caught in a flaming death
to which all meaning does cling.

[Reference: “Kamikaze” by Jan Swanepoel.]

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Gert Strydom, 8 marca 2016

Lucifer at sunrise

I

From the place that he calls home
mighty Prince Lucifer rose
stretched himself out under the sky’s dome
while everything was still at repose
throughout the world men were quarrelsome
a flock of birds did past close
but to him no final defeat had yet come

and he tasted the bittersweet victory
of the Lamb of God being nailed to a cross
and from that day his life had been transitory
filled with small victories and great loss
as his revolt (the age-old story)
had come at a personal cost
as had been recorded by history.

II

For mere moments he stood in awe
caught by the perfection of the rising sun
but still in place was God’s character, His law,
while a new day had begun

and he remember how it once had been,
of all the beautiful and great things that he had seen,
how perfect, how matchless had been his life
but now by his freewill he was leading a life of strife

and new strategies was in every thought
but for all the chaos and calamity that he brought
the omnipotent power of the Son
was still helping everyone

while God was ever-present watching him as a tiny speck,
continually holding him in check.

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Gert Strydom, 7 marca 2016

The things in a town

In a building there are people singing “Gloria in excelsior”
and it’s beautiful like a choir of angels
but I do receive a track that insists on my salvation
and the traffic light does change.

Around me people past in a bunch
and on the other side an old white man holds out his hand
with a “good afternoon to you, sir” he greets me
and just there tries to block my way.

A flower vendor tries to push a bunch of deep red roses in to my hand
and says “buy them for the madam”
while the wind is jerking on his thin shirt
“mister, she will really like the roses.”

Right at the home affairs building
a camera is lifted to focus on me,
a hand with a pen is held out
and I slip and almost do lose my balance

and right there I wonder about the things that are happening in this town,
I want to escape into the veldt,
do see everybody standing with a stretched out hand
or maybe I want to return back to my Pretoria.